


Flying Start

by Mossy_Birch (Mossy_Bench)



Category: Hello From the Magic Tavern (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Precarious Worldbuilding, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Shapeshifting, ToT: Battle of the Bands, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossy_Bench/pseuds/Mossy_Birch
Summary: Aboard the Wing'd Whale, Chunt gleans something about Arnie's preferences and runs with it.
Relationships: Chunt/Arnie Niekamp
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Flying Start

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoreyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/gifts).



> Happy Halloween, DoreyG! I was thrilled to see someone requesting Hello From the Magic Tavern. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this fandom!

When Arnie sees the Wing’d Whale lounging in the water surrounding Soul’s Hollow’s main dock, a ship harnessed securely on its back between two enormous fluffy white wings, he says, “I didn’t know whales were so _big_.”

Chunt snickers.

“I can’t even respond to that right now,” Usidore says. He points down. “Stay here and hold our place in line. I’m going to speak to the conductor. We saved the whole town from slarva just a few days ago, we deserve some sort of fast pass.”

Usidore marches off towards the front of the line, leaving Arnie and Chunt to wait. Arnie gazes at the whale again. Its small eyes are serene as it bobs gently on the water's surface, as if it's a swan or something.

“Come on, Arnie,” Chunt scoffs. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a whale before.”

“I haven’t,” Arnie says, his voice still full of wonder. “Well, you know, I’ve seen pictures back on Earth, but it’s different in person. Also, this one has wings. And it’s purple and I think a little shimmery?”

“I’ve seen shimmerier,” Chunt says. Arnie silently mouths the word to himself as Chunt continues, “I’ve actually been a whale before, remember? I think I’ve even mentioned it on the show before.”

Arnie frowns as he tries to imagine Chunt in that form. He wouldn't even be recognizable. “No, I guess I forgot. How do whales even have—you know what, never mind. I don’t want to know that much about whale autonomy, or else it’ll haunt me this whole flight.”

Chunt shrugs. “Wellm if you’re ever curious, just let me know.” His voice sounds off, maybe a little forced. “I don’t mind talking about that stuff. With you.”

Suddenly it’s awkward. Arnie keeps his eyes fixed on the whale, as if he’s still taking it in. “Sure thing, buddy,” he says, and hates how nervous he sounds.

They’re saved by Usidore’s distinctive shouting. “Chunt! Arnie! Hurry up, I got the tickets!”

* * *

The ship is surprisingly nice. The ceiling is a only bit higher than your typical airplane cabin, but it’s much more spacious. They boarded from the rear of the ship, where they could check any belongings or luggage. (They mostly held onto everything, though Chunt did turn his eggy baby over to the pretty otter presiding over the nursery and cloakroom. Arnie pushes aside his morbid curiosity. It's none of his business.)

The ship has a cozy little bar that gives Arnie a pang of nostalgia for the Vermillion Minotaur. It even has a balcony in the front, just big enough for a human, a wizard, and a badger. In the couple hours since they took off, though, it’s been constantly packed with tipsy teenagers.

So the three of them just remain seated at their wooden booth, idly people-watching and talking. A tiny lantern filled with jewel-like purple flame sways above them as Usidore re-doffs his hat dramatically. "So yes, in summary, even though we're on the road, I've managed to find _two_ renters for my hat. That's where our gold is coming from, Arnie. You should be a little more grateful."

But Arnie's distracted. He has an unobscured view of the bar, so he can see the man sitting down at one of the two stools. He’s got tousled dark hair streaked with grey, heavy brows, an impossibly strong jaw, and also a bushy tail coming from his rear. “Is that guy a werewolf?”

"Way to change the subject," Usidore says with a harumph, crossing his arms.

Chunt turns and stretches up on his hind legs; he’s bigger than the average badger, but still substantially shorter than six-feet-plus Arnie. “Where—oh, yeah, for sure.”

Usidore rolls his eyes, drops his arms, then cranes his neck back and gawks very obviously. “Oh, _definitely._ Do you recall Nathan Goodboy? Werewolves always have a tail, even in human form.”

Arnie does remember Nathan. He wasn’t as grizzled as the guy at the bar, but he did have brooding eyes and similarly shaggy hair. “Huh. So they really are all like that.”

Usidore strokes his beard. “Are you interested in interviewing him for the podcast?”

Arnie would drum his fingers on the table if he hadn’t broken himself out of that habit years ago (gotta avoid noise pollution when recording). “I don’t know. Maybe? But probably not. I don’t like having on guests that are too similar, it makes things weirdly competitive. We’ve already had a werewolf on the show.”

“Like what?” Chunt says, tilting his head.

“Huh?”

“You said, So they’re really all like that. Like what?”

“Uh, you know.” Arnie can’t meet Chunt’s eyes, so he looks to Usidore, who looks like he knows what Arnie’s thinking and is nodding approvingly. “Hot.”

“It’s true,” Usidore immediately responds.

Chunt laughs. “Wait, what?” Then he laughs again. “I didn’t know you were into people with, you know, fur.”

Arnie feels himself blushing. “It’s not that weird.” Even to himself, his voice is too high. “On my world, a lot of people think that.”

“Oh, yeah," Chunt says, "yeah, no, werewolves are considered pretty hot on Foon too. I just didn’t know it was a thing on Earth.”

There's that awkward pause again. Arnie looks back to Usidore. Maybe he'll save them once more. A change of subject would be perfect just about now.

Usidore sits up. “Even if you’re not interested in having him on the show, I'm gonna go talk to him. Maybe he's a member of the _Silent Eye!_ " He slides out of the booth and strides over to the bar with a confidence that Arnie envies.

Then Chunt gets up too. "I'll be right back," he says. "Just gotta, uh, do something." He dashes toward the end of the ship, where the coatroom is. He probably just wants to check on his egg, maybe chat with that pretty otter. Still, Arnie can't help feeling like he's missing something.

* * *

Chunt returns about ten minutes later, looking a little disheveled. Usidore is still talking to the werewolf at the bar. "Hey Arnie, wanna see if the balcony's got space yet?"

He's got nothing better to do than sit around and feel vaguely weird. "Sure thing." Only once they start making their way down the ship's narrow planked corridor does Arnie realize he's either going to be next to a couple of hormonal magic-wielding teenagers, or alone with Chunt.

They peek through the glass door to the balcony. A few Jizzleknob students are out there already. They appear to be discussing their clothes, delicate silvery robes embroidered with shining thread. Was Usidore that elegant when he was a student, Arnie wonders, or was he always covered in bird shit? ...He was probably always covered in birdshit.

"Looks like it's still full," Arnie starts to say.

A truly impressive amount of water suddenly shoots out of the whale’s blowhole, raining onto the balcony at the front of the ship. The kids shriek and make for the door, pushing past Arnie and Chunt, dripping wet.

“Aw, sweet, splash zone!” Chunt says, catching the door before it closes. "After you."

"Thanks," Arnie says and cautiously sidles out. Everything is completely soaked. The metal railings glisten in the sunlight and in the faint violet glow that the Wing'd Whale gives off. He has to admit, it's beautiful. He inhales deeply the cool, fresh air. He'll never say it to Usidore and Chunt, because they'll laugh and not believe him, but he's actually glad that they've ventured beyond Hogsface. Just when he thinks he's gotten used to Foon's wackiness, a whale with wings will show up.

Chunt clears his throat and joins Arnie at the railing. “Things have changed a lot, haven’t they.”

“Yeah." An image of Chunt's cozy hovel pops into Arnie's mind, and for a moment he forgets that he's on a flying whale, just feels a bittersweet ache for simpler times. "Especially you—now you've got an egg to look after, and you can even shapeshift without having sex.”

“It’s funny you say that. I still don’t shapeshift it as much as Usidore wants, probably. I was thinking earlier today that I should practice more.” Chunt looks up at Arnie and winks. “Do you wanna see something cool?”

Past experience makes Arnie wary. What Chunt thinks is cool is actually awful, about half of the time “Uh...sure.”

“Don't worry so much, I'm sure you'll like it.” Chunt shuffles his feet. “Hold on a sec.”

There’s that horrible cracking noise that Arnie can’t get used to as Chunt’s body morphs and rearranges itself. Arnie shudders and casts his gaze up into the sky. It feels intrusive to watch. It also makes him feel a bit queasy.

“See, Arnie?” Chunt says triumphantly. “I can even be a werewolf! Isn’t it cool?”

Arnie looks, and then stares. It’s hard to process. For one, Arnie’s never seen Chunt in a humanoid form. This time it looks like Chunt has modeled his appearance on the werewolf at the bar. He’s got the messy waves of hair and sharp jawline, and is even taller than Arnie. Yet his face is still definitely Chunt. Arnie can’t put a finger on why. Is it the bright eyes? The round nose? Like in all of Chunt’s other forms, he’s retained his black and white markings. Here they're present in his hair, which looks like an optical illusion.

“Um. Wow." Arnie scratches his head self-consciously. "I was not expecting that.”

Chunt turns in a circle demonstratively, showing that he does, in fact, have a tail. Arnie's eyes snap back up guiltily as Chunt turns to face him again. “Don'tcha like it?”

“I don’t _hate_ it,” Arnie says.

“Oh.” In this form, Arnie can see when Chunt blushes. "Well, I thought it could be fun, but I'll just change back, then."

Arnie starts to say, “Hey, no, bud, it’s not like that," but Chunt has already begun the gruesome transformation. Arnie mutters, "Oh god," under his breath and looks away again, but continues talking. "Listen, if I’m being honest, I’m just so used to you being a badger. I like when you try different things, too! But let's take this one step at a time.”

“I'm done with the shapeshifting, you can look now,” Chunt says, subdued.

Arnie looks. After being a hulking werewolf, Chunt looks so small now. "Hey...listen, Chunt..."

Chunt sniffles, and Arnie flinches. Oh great, so he's stuck his foot in his mouth again. "I know it's kind of a joke on the show, but—you know I like you, right?" Chunt looks up at him with his round black badger eyes.

Arnie's so full of self-conscious panic that he's a beat late to register what Chunt said. "Wait-" he says, but his words are drowned out by the sound of the Wing'd Whale spouting another wave of water.

As it crashes onto them, Arnie grabs Chunt's paw, afraid that he could miss his moment, like he's missed so many before. "I like you too!" he sputters.

The cascade of water subsides. "What?" Chunt says, as if he couldn't tell what Arnie said. But Arnie knows that's a lie by the way Chunt clasps his hand back. The badger is soaked through, his fur plastered to him, and he seems to be shivering from cold. But he's still got an enormous grin stretching across his face as he looks at Arnie.

Arnie wipes water from his face with his free hand, the weight of his wet clothes contrasting with the buoyant lightness in his chest. "It doesn't even make any sense," he says, muffled and overwhelmed; he can hear himself only distantly. "Why would it spout when it's not even in water?"

Chunt nudges him gently. "Personally, I'm loving this look, but you look miserable. Let's go inside and get Usidore to dry us off, and then we can talk about whatles more."

Arnie nods, still a little dazed, and the two of them start to amble towards the door. "Do you think Usidore actually knows spells that useful?" he manages to ask.

"We'll find out," Chunt says.

Thankfully, Usidore does:

"That werewolf guy was a complete asshole," the wizard grumbles as he lowers his staff, the lingering orange sparks from his spell gradually fizzling out. "Hope you two had a better time than I did."

**Author's Note:**

> This fic's premise was inspired by the song "A Werewolf" by Attic Abasement, which has the line "I can be a werewolf, if you want me to". However, that song is the complete opposite to this fic in all other respects, such as tone and content. (I could see it working very well for Mirror World Arnie/Chunt, though.)


End file.
